If it were up to me you’d be

made of bodywarmers 

in artisan socks from 

Iceland, Eigg or Hoth

even in June, in June

I want to keep you 

bundled, call you toast

and soft and close as 

microwaved milk

in a crumpet oubliette.

Ready Brek jet setter,

your crown a fiery hob

Top of the Pops and bonfire 

fudge, nestled in fleece,

honey, middle encased

in a crucible of cashmere,

forever sleep snug in a 3.5 tog

my tiny love, fisherman’s friend.

It starts in the toes

of a ropey morning,

the passing of summer,

the open-eyed pastures,

a lounging in stasis,

done. Your toes,

and they say useless, say

done. And they say how well

you alienated the lot of it-

pals. The scene... you did it!

Became one

with the absolute inward,

silent hour- it carries you,

alone as a craft. Bears

weight, the days like  

puffs that end in an echo,

as Sugar Puffs or

clouds with their silver 

slices, your snacks, 

your snacks, some 

frisson of sadness, O

toes-

what will you do once the

Autumn descends upon leaves 

upon the leaves? They

hang on your every word 

Cluster lilies in their blue fire thrust

up through Wednesday morning. 

Tomorrow will be the same like those

falling Dominoes that go up and over

and around, or mattresses too, 

all people going backwards on YouTube.

They are like that. I like it, the simplicity,

these flowers will brown and I will buy some

more, doodle them onto the vase 

with an immediate pencil. Days go by 

in some kind of sequence but suddenly

I am old. When I dream of Goblin Hill

and I am always 12- a tooth we 

dissolved in Coke, I think: In 100 years 

we will all be dead. It’s as hard to imagine

as space- or the softness of Mum’s

upper arms. They existed and Honey &

Betsy too. Such tenderness in every

rickety synapse, built-in, see-through.

All we ever can say is I love you brave wraith-

I will always forever love you. 

Spring is delicious in flames and ginger,

the dead dog’s tree is opening out right- 

buds with the smallest flickering of

acid house in the tip, finally and all after 

we had given it up. The fairy ring as a pink 

mouth and a just-kiss from his best friend

smashes it up into the April. This year

we are not allowed outside- it suits me fine

for only the forest is sad without the old gang,

me and Doggin. I had not been up there, 

for to clock the loss of together would be 

too much, right. Kinga was vivid, every old lady

would fizz and cry such a beautiful dog. And he was.

A streak of fire in the trees, his white trousers

at the back bobbing along under his fern-proud

tail, everyone loved that boy. This year we are 

not allowed outside, but it suits me down to 

the ground- old World with its all kinds of glitches,

some good stuff like cinema and magicians,

but mostly ice. They’ve gone and done it now-

the whole of the everything’s shut. The place is 

in bits and it’s not so bad, just an egg-coloured 

ghost with dark wailings of Easter all in scrambles,

I’m opted out, see. Spring is the king and I’m free.

New Year New 

If a Mergirl: Get some ear-pods for underwater casting, it's important to keep in touch with yourself in that way. Try not to zigzag and cancel the fear of braining yourself against the chiselled purses of younger maids

Always drink wine at lunch time, it’s French. Also have the full good time. Christmas is 

forever, think apocalypse ready. In dreams of being a handy woman, try for some fifties 

thing, a sweetheart neckline

Books are noble, poetry is telly. Make them and read them but never be them. You are only ever one reading away from wearing a beret. Keep your Kerouac in sandwich bags for cleanliness. Bohemia is literally bourgeois 

Supreme satisfaction from folding clothes into perfect rectangles. Housework is artform yet underrated. The happiness of a clean home, it’s not that bad. In the moment we are somewhere else, whipping up cosy like drugs

Clothe refugees in your old Topshop. Open your heart to the online community yet scorch ego like the plague. Socialise with anyone who can tolerate you and love with your full heart. Life is now a beautiful snow globe